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"I'll make sure it's a warm pool then." I spooned ice cream into my mouth.
"Warm and wet are two of my favorite things." He smiled at me over the top of his beer glass and took a sip.
I almost choked on chocolate ice cream. Warm and wet were two things he was making me with this line of conversation. That was a good reason to eat ice cream—to cool myself down before I overheated. Or left a puddle.
I managed to swallow and get my breath before I made a complete idiot of myself.
"I suspected they might be," I said finally. I waited until he was about to take another sip and added, "Personally, I like creamy." I ate another spoonful of ice cream and pretended I hadn't carefully timed my words.
He coughed a couple of times and his face turned pink. "Funny," he managed to say. "I like creamy too. Especially between two thighs."
"Chicken thighs?" I suggested, as if I had no idea what he was referring to.
"What else?" he asked with mock innocence. "There's nothing like cream on a coc—" He stopped as a server walked past with the bill for dinner.
"Thank you." He glanced at it without looking twice at the server. He didn't seem to look twice at the total cost of dinner either. Of course not, whatever it was, he could afford it. It must be nice having that kind of financial security.
I did okay, but he was a Rock Dragon, he made an eye watering amount of money on a daily basis. Money he and the guys worked very hard for, and to their credit they gave a lot back to charity and the community. None of them took any of it for granted. And if they did, Roman would probably kick their ass.
I doubted he missed the way the server was making eyes at him, and shooting daggers at me, but I appreciated that he didn't seem interested in ditching me for her. I wouldn't blame him if he did. In spite of the flirting, this wasn't an actual date or anything. He didn't owe me a thing.
When the server eventually moved on, he said, "So, we were talking about cream?"
"Were we?" I put down my spoon. "I don't know about you, but I'm finished." I would have to come back here another time, the ice cream was heavenly. Although, most ice cream was. If I had a vice outside making chocolate chip cookies, it was eating ice cream. I tried to avoid it, because I could very easily eat way too much of it. And the other kind of cream? I was probably too fond of that too.
"You're very quiet," he remarked. When I snorted a laugh, he added, "When I'm finished, you'll know about it, but I promise I always make sure my partner finishes first."
If he kept talking like that, I really was going to finish. And not quietly either. My pulse was racing and my mind wasn't too far behind.
It’s just harmless flirting, I reminded myself. Nothing else. After this, we'd go back to just being colleagues. Rock star and tour publicist, end of story.
He downed the last of his beer and placed his glass down on the table with a soft thump.
"I'll pay this and walk you back to your place." He stood and walked over to the cashier. They had a brief chat and he tapped his card before turning back to me. He looked at me like I was the only person in the entire room. Like he was seeing the real me and not the work me.
My tongue darted over my lips and I told myself I was imagining it. There wasn't anything between Axel and I. There couldn't be.
So why did my pulse race so fast?
When we walked out of the restaurant and he slipped his hand into mine, why didn't I pull mine away? Why did it felt natural and nice to have his fingers laced through mine? Why didn't I move away when our hips brushed as we walked?
I felt like every part of me was on a slow simmer, but it could very easily turn to a fast, rolling boil. If I wasn't careful, the pot would overflow and I would get burnt.
"You don't have to walk me all the way up," I said when we stopped outside my building. "I'm safe enough in there."
"I'd like to show you all the way up," he said. "If it's okay with you? I feel better knowing you got inside safely." Those were the words he said, but his eyes said something else completely.
Something far too compelling. If I was sensible, I would insist on going the rest of the way alone. But I wasn't in the mood for sensible. I didn't want to think about work, I just wanted to be me and live, for once in my life, in the moment. To check my inhibitions at the door. Even knowing they might turn into regrets when the sun rose.
"Okay," I said softly. My hand still in his, we walked into the building and took the elevator up to the third floor.
I should have thanked him for walking me, and for dinner. I should have unlocked my door and stepped inside alone. Things would have been very simple then. He might have gone back to the restaurant to talk to the server who was giving him all the attention. Or he might have gone home. I would have grabbed a vibrator out of the drawer beside my bed and used it on myself before I slept.
Instead, I said, "Do you want to come in?"
His eyes, locked on mine, were like molten pools of chocolate, drawing me in where I might just lose myself, if I could just let myself go.
"Yeah, I do." His breath brushed over my cheek like white hot heat. "Please."
